73: Chapter 73 Tens of Thousands Block the Door to Seize the Divine Medicine!

The white gentleman finished reading the newspaper, his jaw nearly dropping in shock.

Just like him, everyone passing through Times Square, whether walking or driving, stopped to grab a copy of The New York Times.

Over the past few years, thanks to Lin Tian's reckless spending, The New York Times had developed at rocket speed.

It hadn't just established branches in major cities like Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, Los Angeles, and San Francisco.

Its headquarters had even moved directly to Times Square, known as the crossroads of the world, leaving ordinary newspapers far behind.

Combined with the paper's strict adherence to truth, speed, and impartiality, every influential person in New York had subscribed to it.

After all, in this era, whoever mastered the most accurate information could seize the initiative in business and politics.

Therefore, the moment The New York Times published the efficacy of the miracle drug Sulfonamide, no one doubted it was false propaganda.

Everyone was now obsessed with finding out where they could buy this life-saving miracle drug.

Pat was an Italian immigrant.

For the poor living in the backward Europe, the USA was simply a paradise for making a fortune.

Paupers who couldn't even afford a meal back home would break their pots and sell their iron just to buy a transoceanic ticket to come here.

Although they had to endure a few years of hardship upon arrival—cramming into slums, eating food worse than pig swill, and doing dirty, tiring work day and night—as long as they persevered and saved enough money for the journey to the Midwest to claim a plot of land, they could immediately live the happy life of a farmer.

Pat had originally planned the same.

Just as he saw the light at the end of the tunnel and had saved enough for the whole family to go West, his son suddenly developed a high fever at this critical moment.

Sent to the church hospital for an examination, the doctor issued a critical condition notice directly: meningitis!

With current Western medical standards, this disease was terminal.

The doctor left behind a statement of helplessness and turned away.

At that moment, Pat felt the sky collapse.

Like all sentimental Sicilians, he valued his wife and children more than his own life.

He had fought tooth and nail to come here and suffer just to give his family a good life, but reality had dealt him a fatal blow.

Watching their savings run dry and his son burning with fever, unconscious, Pat held his desperate wife and could only weep silently by the bedside.

Just when Pat was feeling hopeless, an Italian fellow from the slaughterhouse suddenly rushed in.

The coworker shouted at the top of his lungs in their hometown dialect: "Pat! Pat! Leo can be saved!"

Pat was dazed, pushing open the door.

The coworker dived into the room, waving The New York Times in his hand, shouting excitedly: "Look at the newspaper! Your son can be saved!"

Pat snatched the paper, his hands trembling as he flipped through it.

The eye-catching black bold text of the headline instantly came into view: A Gift from Bruce Lin to the World—The Miracle Drug Sulfonamide!

Seeing the introduction that Sulfonamide had miraculous effects on meningitis and sepsis, Pat fiercely grabbed the coworker's shoulders, roaring with red eyes: "Is what is written here true? Who on earth is Bruce Lin?"

The coworker explained excitedly: "You just immigrated, so it's normal not to know him."

"This young man is a living immortal! Have you heard of Chinese Kung Fu? He was the one who first demonstrated it. This kid kicked a three-hundred-pound Tsarist Russian giant bear flying when he was ten!"

"Smokeless Powder and the safety razor are all his patents. Even the cola Leo loves to drink most is his invention. In short, this person is an incredible genius inventor!"

Hearing this, Pat felt as if he had grasped a lifeline.

"In that case, the efficacy must be true too!"

"Absolutely! Big shots wouldn't bother lying about this kind of thing. Besides, this is The New York Times, which costs a cent more than ordinary papers and has never published fake news!" The coworker patted his chest to guarantee.

"Where is the medicine? Where can I buy this miracle drug?" Pat was completely convinced, so anxious he was jumping on the spot.

The coworker pointed to the advertisement at the bottom of the newspaper: "Look here, 56 North Street, Brooklyn, St. Louis Hospital. The first batch is giving away ten thousand doses for free. If you go late, then..."

Before the coworker finished speaking, Pat picked up his unconscious son and dragged his wife out of the rental apartment like a madman.

By the time Pat arrived at St. Louis Hospital, sweating profusely, he was stunned by the scene before him.

The hospital gate was already packed with thousands of people.

They were all family members of patients who had rushed over after reading the newspaper.

Some had even pushed their beds directly from other hospitals.

"Good heavens! With so many people, how are we going to squeeze in!" The wife cried in distress.

"We can't worry about that. Hold our son tight, I'll go ahead and scout the path!" Pat stuffed his son into his wife's arms and squeezed desperately towards the gate.

After managing to squeeze to the gate, he was stopped by a chubby nurse with curly hair.

"Patients, go queue up to register first! If you have a number, show me the slip!" The chubby nurse shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Has Mr. Frey arrived?" The chubby nurse continued to call out to the crowd.

A white youth immediately hugged an old man with a pale face and shouted: "Here! Here!"

"Give me the registration form, bring the patient in!"

After verifying the form, the chubby nurse cleared a path.

The youth quickly helped his father, who had sepsis, walk through the gate.

Seeing his son about to breathe his last, Pat went crazy with anxiety, grabbing the chubby nurse's arm and pleading:

"Please tell me, how much medicine is left inside? My son really can't hold on anymore! Please make an exception!"

"Don't touch me!" The chubby nurse screamed like a slaughtered pig after being hurt.

"Give me the medicine! I beg you!" Pat's knees went weak, and he nearly knelt to the nurse.

But the chubby nurse didn't care at all, continuing to scream shrilly: "Security! Call security! This madman is trying to hit someone!"

Two security guards in black uniforms carrying guns immediately rushed out of the hospital.

Driven to a dead end, Pat's eyes went completely red.

The Sicilian bandit genes in his bones erupted instantly.

He suddenly pulled an M1885 Browning pistol from his chest, the dark muzzle pointed directly at the chubby nurse's forehead.

"Give me the medicine! If you don't, I'll shoot right now!" Pat roared desperately.

The scene instantly fell into chaos.

Seeing the hostage taken, the security guards were afraid of harming her and didn't dare to draw their guns.

"Help!"

The chubby nurse was so scared she soiled herself, emitting a shrill scream.

With things having escalated to this point, Pat had completely let go of all caution.

Holding the nurse hostage, he signaled his shocked wife to hold their son and rushed into the hospital together.

Charging all the way, they found the special ward for Sulfonamide injections.

As soon as Pat entered the room, before he could make his demand, a black shadow suddenly darted out from behind the door.

A powerful high kick directly kicked the firearm out of Pat's hand.

Immediately after, another black shadow approached at lightning speed.

A backhand grapple followed by a knee strike.

With a muffled "thud," Pat was pinned tightly to the floor, unable to move.

Even while being knelt on and having his arm nearly twisted off, the man didn't utter a sound of pain.

He stared fixedly at a young female doctor in a white coat, who looked like an angel, and pleaded:

"Doctor, please save my son. If he's gone, my wife and I won't be able to live either!"

Elizabeth, who was administering injections to patients, saw the situation clearly and turned to the two Chinese female bodyguards sent by Lin Tian:

"Tang, let him go."

"Miss Elizabeth, the young master gave strict orders before leaving: you must not be frightened in the slightest. If anything happens to you, we couldn't pay for it even with our lives!" The female bodyguard named Tang Yan shook her head repeatedly.

"With you protecting me closely, I am very safe. I can tell that in his eyes, there is only love for his child. God would never blame a father fighting for his child." Elizabeth's tone was very gentle.

Hearing Elizabeth say this, the two female bodyguards exchanged glances, then released their grip and stepped aside.

"Bring the child over, I will examine him now." Elizabeth ordered quickly.

Upon hearing this, Pat's wife quickly carried the six-year-old boy, whose body was burning hot, to the treatment bed.

Elizabeth pried open the boy's eyelids, felt his forehead, and turned to shout at the male doctor beside her: "Severe late-stage meningitis! Prepare a high dose of Sulfonamide for me immediately!"

"Understood!"

The male doctor prepared the medicine efficiently.

At this moment, the chubby nurse who had escaped death stood by the door, urging impatiently:

"Dr. Elizabeth is about to save the patient, you family members hurry up and go outside to wait!"

"Sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll go right now!"

Pat panicked and pulled his wife, whose hands were sweaty, out of the ward.

As the door closed, the couple leaned against the hallway wall, hands clasped, and could only pray desperately to God in their hearts.